


Ordinary

by Madam_Fandom



Series: NaNoWriMo [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Connected: The Great Game, Fan theories, Gen, Johnlock - Freeform, Moriarty Centric, NaNoWriMo, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Three sides to every story, head canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fandom/pseuds/Madam_Fandom
Summary: This is the (canon) story of Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and Moriarty but told more so from Moriarty's POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this for nanowrimo and I am concerned it comes across as boring. I need feedback ASAP. I don't want to lose too much time on a dead end story.

Or·di·nar·y - adjective, 1. with no special or distinctive features; normal. Noun 2. what is commonplace or standard.

 

Most people are ordinary. Ordinary is so- boring. Moriarty spend his days trying to sweat out the fever that is boredom. He plays with the feeble minds of all the people who come to him looking for answers, things that if they just thought about, they might be able to figure out the answers for themselves. Very few things are capable of holding and keeping Moriarty’s attention; so when a promising blip showed up on his radar he was overjoyed with the possibilities. Moriarty had a new playmate, someone capable of staying abreast with him intellectually. Sherlock Holmes. He truly thought Sherlock was perfect for him in every way, two sides to the same coin. Boy was he wrong. But maybe- maybe with a little nudging he could be.

 

Their paths first crossed when they were just boys. Moriarty didn’t know it back then, if he had, he would’ve started grooming Sherlock to be his right hand man. No. Sherlock would’ve been his equal.

When Moriarty was younger, he wasn’t as affluential as he is now, and he use to be teased and bullied for what he called rising above the mundane ordinaries.

Carl Powers. He had been big for his age. And a promising swimmer. But, he was average at best and he drowned; how promising could he be? Poor Carl, such a tragic and untimely demise for someone so young the media had said.

But a young Sherlock Holmes, already extraordinary saw right away what no one else did, no one except for the murderer that is. Little Carl’s death had been no accident. But, no one would listen to little Sherlock with the over active imagination.

 

Now let's skip ahead several years. Sherlock and Moriarty has grown into a strapping good looking men. They have both carved out a niche for themselves in the business world, not exactly mainstream but for Moriarty highly lucrative. Whereas Sherlock hardly charged for his services. Moriarty a consulting criminal as Sherlock had called him one time. It did have a certain ring to it. And then there was Sherlock he had become a consulting detective. In a world where you're striving to stay above the boredom, consulting detective isn’t a half bad gig.

Fortunately and unfortunately for the both of them, Sherlock took on the ‘A Study in Pink’ case, as John the overly eager to please sidekick had dubbed it. But John’s importance comes later. Sherlock always the quick witted one, in a world of half wits, knew the suicides weren’t what they seemed right from the start. D.I. Lestrade had taken to calling them serial suicides. Serial suicides? Seriously?  How oxymoronic is that? You can only die once. Unless you are Sherlock or Moriarty. But again, that will be discussed later. So, serial implies a string of events or happenings. And since you can only die once...You see where I’m going with this right? Lestrade, what a moron. Sherlock’s on the case, yada, yada, yada. He catches Moriarty’s attention and that of a then client of his. Sherlock was on the case officially less than 24 hours and he had all but figured out the identity of Moriarty's client. Sherlock’s appetite for mental stimulation...intriguing.

So now, Moriarty’s interest is piqued, a couple of choice comments were conveniently said to his client knowing Sherlock will catch him and it would lead to the client's arrest. Human nature, such a reliable drive, the client at having been bested by the consulting detective will want to hold something over his head, something to prove that Sherlock had not in fact bested him completely. A taunt. Information. Moriarty. And like a good little boy Moriarty’s client played his role, he dropped his name right in Sherlock’s prim little lap. And so the game commences.

 

Moriarty has several high ranking, sorry, he has several seemingly high ranking officials under his thumb. And he put one on Sherlock right away. Watching his every move, anything he thought suspicious or possibly detrimental to Moriarty’s business he was to report to him.

Poor Mycroft. He hates Moriarty and the role he is forced to play. But he is such a good little soldier, always doing what he is told. Sadly, he’s ordinary too. But he likes to think he is extraordinary. Moriarty enjoys playing with him because of his ability to lock down his emotions and get things done, it is a pretty neat trick. Moriarty often refers to him as The Iceman.

 

So now there’s Mycroft spying on his little brother, keeping taps, but Mycroft thinks he is so clever, he refuses to give up any real info. That’s quite okay, little does he know he is playing right into Moriarty’s hand. Human nature I tell ya, gets them every time.

 

Moriarty couldn’t keep his distance though. He searched out someone he thought was close to Sherlock but not too close. He found Molly Hooper online through her blog. He almost felt bad for using Molly, she was a lot like Moriarty in a way, so desperate for Sherlock’s attention. Moriarty posed as a love interest for little miss Molly. He didn’t have to wait long for an introduction to the great Sherlock Holmes. And after meeting him he had felt he was right, Sherlock was smart enigmatic and far from ordinary. He left his number for Sherlock, rather covertly too, making a spectacle of himself. Sherlock never called.

It really, really pissed off Moriarty that Sherlock didn’t call him. He’d never put himself out there like that for someone. He'd made sure he was clever about being interested. He even made a game of it all. Moriarty began thinking, maybe Sherlock didn’t see his number. So he came up with an even more grand game to get Sherlock’s attention. And it was going well, he could tell how excited Sherlock was over their little game. But then the game was just about over and he needed one more near victim. Near victim because no one was ever supposed to die, Moriarty had had complete fate in the fact that Sherlock would figure out each of his little riddles And the people would go free. A little shaken up sure, but all the more cautious for having gone through it. Besides killing these people would get him nowhere, it would not endear Sherlock to his side.

But, the blind old woman messed that up for him, he couldn’t have Sherlock knowing who he was before he was ready for his big reveal. Anyways, back to the last near victim.

Moriarty wanted it to be someone special, someone that would wring some sort of emotion from his overtly stoic counterpart.

Surprisingly the opportunity presented itself in t the form of John Watson, sidekick extraordinaire. It was the same night Sherlock reached out to him. Impeccable timing really, and had only further cemented the idea that he and Sherlock were meant to be and on the same wave length.

When John came out of the building without alone, Moriarty jumped on the situation. He had been waiting on Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock’s landlady; he admits now he was shortsighted when it came to John. Moriarty had no clue how much John and Sherlock meant to one another until John jumped on his back in an attempt to save Sherlock. And again when they had thought he was gone. It was the reason Moriarty had come back into the pool. He’d gotten jealous of the obvious affection Sherlock had shown for John once he thought Moriarty had gone. And it was then that the idea was for the real Great Game was hatched, Moriarty just didn’t realize it until Irene had interrupted with her selfish, ordinary needs.


End file.
